


Old Wounds

by vivvav



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Masaru Yokoyama, Multi, Natsumi Sakamoto, The AFR Universe, Yoshio Sakamoto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivvav/pseuds/vivvav
Summary: When Ryuji's leg starts acting up again, he falls into a deep depression. His family doesn't know how to handle it.





	Old Wounds

The surprise party Haru had arranged for Yusuke’s 40th birthday was nothing short of spectacular. She’d rented out the ballroom of the Cerulean Tower hotel for the evening and invited friends of Yusuke’s from all over the world, and as it turned out, Yusuke had oh so many friends. Fellow artists, art collectors, art critics, people on the fringe of the art world who he’d met as friends of friends, etc. Of course, there were others. Ordinary people Yusuke had met while traveling to different locations for inspiration that he’d grown fond of, from fishermen to farmers to fighter pilots. It was a veritable bacchanalia, full of raucous laughter, bizarre and revealing outfits, and a number of substances Makoto couldn’t prove were illegal because she did not know what they were, so she decided to turn a blind eye.

Currently, the orchestra —just one of several bands hired for the event— was playing a slow song, and the partygoers were dancing accordingly. Friends and lovers held each other close, some gliding gracefully across the dance floor, some awkwardly shuffling around trying to prevent their partner from stepping on their feet. Yusuke himself danced elegantly, especially considering the constant refrain of “may I cut in?” ensuring he had a new dance partner every ten seconds. Still, he managed to switch between companions with perfection, never losing a step.

Sitting at a table right at the edge of the dance floor, Futaba, Haru, and Masaru beheld the spectacle.

“That string bean sure is popular” Masaru said. “Anybody keepin’ count of how many people he’s danced with?”

“Seventeen so far” Futaba said. “Both men and women. I can’t believe Inari’s got this many friends. Especially ones that actually wanna touch him.”

“Oh, they do a fair bit more than touching him, Futaba-Chan” Haru said.

“Yeah, I know. They’re dancing.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Haru shook her head. “All of those people are Yusuke-Kun’s partners.”

“You mean they make art together?”

“I mean sexually.”

“WHAT!?” Futaba stared daggers at Haru. “That’s gross! Don’t even joke about that, Haru!”

“I’m not joking, Futaba-Chan!” Haru looked back at the dance floor. “Yusuke-Kun has lovers in every country he’s been to.”

“No he doesn’t!” Futaba stood up, slamming her hands on the table. “Yusuke Kitagawa is a spacey asexual homunculus created in a petri dish from human cells and the strands of a paintbrush! He doesn’t feel sexual attraction, and even if he did, he doesn’t have the charisma to act on it!”

"Doesn't he have a kid with that fortune teller?" Masaru asked.

"There was never a DNA test!" Futaba proclaimed.

“I'm afraid you're simply wrong, Futaba-Chan.” Haru watched Yusuke dance with a smaller man with light-brown skin and hearty black stubble. “Yusuke-Kun has told me all about his lovers. The man he’s currently dancing with is Alejandro from Peru. He’s a sensitive man who tends to enjoy the foreplay leading up to sex more than the actual event.” Haru paused as a tall blonde woman stole Yusuke from Alejandro. “And now he’s dancing with Frieda from Germany. Despite her imposing figure, I understand she’s quite demure.” Haru pointed to a well-tanned caucasian couple eyeing Yusuke from the edge of the dance floor. “And those two are David and Melissa from America. They’re a married couple. I believe they’re what you would call ‘swingers’. Yusuke-Kun has told me that they like to-“

“STOP!” Futaba covered her ears. “I don’t need to hear any of this! I refuse to believe that Inari fucks!”

“You don’t have to believe it, Futaba-Chan.” Haru paused to down a shot of rum. “It’s the truth.”

“NOPE!” Futaba ran away from the table, still covering her ears. “NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE!”

Futaba ran straight to the bar, screaming the whole time. She passed by the table Ryuji and Hifumi were sitting at just as Ren came back from the dance floor. Ren eyed the screeching redhead as he sat down.

“What is going on with her?” Ren asked.

“No idea.” Ryuji shrugged. “Maybe she finally snapped bein’ around so many folks. There must be like, two hundred people here!”

“Should somebody go check on her?” Hifumi asked.

“It looks like she was headed to the bar.” Ren took off his right shoe and started kneading his foot. “Makoto’s there, so she’ll be fine.”

“Unlike you.” Ryuji eyed Ren’s foot. “Dance too hard out there?”

“Makoto mistook my feet for the floor on more than a few steps.” Ren put his shoe back on and started attending to the other foot. “I just need to rest them for a little while.”

“Ouch.” Ryuji snickered. “Guess all that ass-kickin’ doesn’t translate to bein’ good at dancin’ huh?”

“They’re different disciplines, yeah.”

“Well, don’t sweat it.” Ryuji put his arm around Hifumi’s shoulders. “Not all of us can marry the perfect girl, Ren.”

“Don’t be mean, Ryuji” Hifumi said.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Ryuji held his hands up in the air. “I ain’t bein’ mean! Just ask Makoto, she’ll be the first to tell you she ain’t perfect!”

“I’m hardly perfect either.”

“See? Modesty.” Ryuji grinned at Ren. “Perfect.”

“Uh-huh.” Ren rolled his eyes.

“AND she’s a great dancer too!” Ryuji stood up and held his hand out to Hifumi as a jazzier, fast-paced song started up. “C’mon babe, let’s show everyone what REAL dancin’ looks like!”

Hifumi stared at Ryuji’s hand for a moment before taking it and rising from her seat, her desire to get her husband to stop teasing their friends slightly outweighed by her desire to have a good time. The two hit the dance floor and did something akin to swing dancing, Ryuji slightly botching proper dance techniques with his wild, enthusiastic movements and Hifumi gracefully compensating for her husband’s lack of finesse, her elegant style acting as enough of a band-aid to make the two look impressive together. Or at least that’s how Ren saw it. And somewhere in the back of his mind he realized it was an unfair appraisal. Ryuji really wasn’t that bad a dancer, certainly no clumsier than the average person on the dance floor. But right now the caveman part of his brain was just upset that his wife’s honor had been tarnished even if Makoto really was one of the worst dancers he knew, and so every mistake Ryuji made was being magnified dramatically.

Until Ryuji’s sudden grunt of pain, pulling Ren’s mind out of the machismo zone and into concerned friend territory.

Towards the end of their dance Ryuji got the idea to give a big finish by picking Hifumi up, lifting her above his head, and doing some kind of showy spin. And for the most part, it was pretty easy. Ryuji was big and strong, Hifumi was light, and it was nothing they hadn’t done before. But when Ryuji tried to come down into a kneel as the spin stopped he winced and let out something guttural, and it took all of his strength and willpower not to drop Hifumi. Everybody cleared away from him as Ryuji let Hifumi down gently, hissing in pain the entire time. Ren ran out onto the dance floor and worked together with Hifumi to help Ryuji up to his feet again, escorting him back to the table.

“This is weak” Ryuji groaned at Ren. “I’m s’posed to be your bodyguard, how’re you the one helpin’ me after I got hurt?”

“This isn’t the time to be thinking about your job.” Ren helped stop Ryuji from falling as he sat down again. “Especially with a broken leg. I’m going to have to give you some time off.”

“It ain’t broken!” Ryuji protested. “Just sore.”

“Still, Ren’s right.” Hifumi retrieved some aspirin from her purse and handed it to Ryuji. “Whenever you hurt your leg like this you’re limping for days. Maybe you should take some time to recover at home.”

“I don’t gotta-“

“Yes, you do” Ren said in the same stern tone he used when speaking as a politician. It was similar to his Joker voice, but demanding instead of mischievous. “You’re my head bodyguard and you can’t fulfill your role properly in this condition. I’m giving you a week off with pay and calling in a replacement.”

“But-“

“That’s final, Sakamoto.” Ren crossed his arms as a bit of the Joker mirth started coming to him. “I WON’T be seeing you in the office tomorrow.”

* * *

Ryuji was home for the third day in a row, sunken so deep into the couch he had practically become one with it. Thanks to Hifumi’s insistence he had at least showered every day, but otherwise had ignored personal care almost entirely. He was letting stubble grow on his face, didn’t care that the black in his hair was starting to reveal itself again, and didn’t even bother putting on pants, just sitting around the house in a tee shirt and boxers.

Ryuji Sakamoto was depressed. And despite his family’s best efforts, nothing could cheer him up.

“C’mon, Dad!” Natsumi was tugging at Ryuji’s sleeve, the nine-year-old full of energy as ever. “Put on some pants and help me with my karate practice!”

“Can’t.” Ryuji didn’t even bother looking at Natsumi. “Just gettin’ up and walkin’ around hurts. Can’t coach ya if I can’t move.”

“Hey Dad.” Yoshio came down the stairs, still in his Kosei uniform. “Can you help me with this math homework?”

“I’m not good at that crap” Ryuji replied. “Ask your mom.”

“Yeah!” Natsumi grabbed Ryuji’s wrist and pulled on his arm. “‘Sides, Dad’s gonna help me with my karate now!”

“No I ain’t!” Ryuji wrenched his arm out of his daughter’s grip. “You wanna burn some energy so bad, go play with the dog!”

“But Mofu doesn’t know karate!”

“That’s enough, Natsumi.” Shizuka Sakamoto reprimanded her granddaughter as she came down the stairs. “Go take Mofu for a walk. And Yoshio, I don’t think you NEED help with your homework, now do you?”

Natsumi and Yoshio relented and left the room. Shizuka sat down on the couch next to Ryuji.

“I was thinking we could get take-out for dinner tonight. Would you prefer ramen or a beef bowl?”

“I’m not hungry” Ryuji said.

“Well not now, but you will be later. So what do you want for dinner?”

“Nothin’.”

“Alright then.” Shizuka stood up and went to grab her purse. “Nothing with a beef bowl on the side. I’ll pick it up when I’m done with my errands.”

“Whatever.”

Shizuka sighed as she headed out the front door. When she opened it, she was met with Hifumi, just getting home.

“How’s he doing?” Hifumi asked.

“Same as yesterday” Shizuka said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into that boy.”

“Maybe I can do something.”

“We’ve all been trying for three days now. I’m not sure that there’s anything to be done.”

“We’ll see.” Hifumi raised her eyebrows. “I’ve got a new strategy.”

Shizuka left the house as Hifumi stepped inside. The younger woman closed the door behind her and walked over to the couch, kissing her husband on the cheek.

“Hey there, Stud.” Hifumi sat down on the couch. “How do you feel?”

“Like crap” Ryuji said.

“Still?”

“Yeah.”

“And why’s that?”

“Why do you think?” Ryuji gave Hifumi the stink-eye. “My effin’ leg injury’s actin’ up again!”

“Yes, but you’ve never been so surly about it before.”

“Well I’ve never been on house arrest before either.” Ryuji crossed his arms and sunk further into the back of the couch. “Everyone I know’s treatin’ me like I can’t do nothin’ all of a sudden just ‘cuz my leg hurts.”

“You’re not on house arrest, Ryuji.”

“Well I ain’t allowed to go to work.”

“We just don’t think you should be body-guarding in your present condition.” Hifumi shook her head. “There’s still plenty you can do besides mope around the house.”

“Like what?”

“We could go for a nice, leisurely walk in the park. Or go to Leblanc or Cafe Noir. We could visit my parents, or take the kids to a movie…” Hifumi leaned against Ryuji’s shoulder. “Or maybe we could forget about the kids and just have a date night for ourselves.”

“I don’t wanna do any of that.”

“Well we don’t have to right now.” Hifumi put her arm around Ryuji’s shoulder. “But we still have half a week to kill.”

“Yeah, half a freakin’ week ’til I get my life back.” Ryuji raised his finger into the air and gave it a sarcastic twirl. “Woohoo.”

“Ryuji, please!” Hifumi turned Ryuji’s head to face her. “We’re all trying to help you! Why are you acting this way?”

“Because after all these years I’m still dealin’ with this stupid leg injury!” Ryuji pushed Hifumi away from him. “I’m sick of it!”

“Yes, well, I can understand how that’s frustrating, but this is a part of getting older.”

“This ain’t some midlife crisis thing, Hifumi!” Ryuji lifted his shirt and pointed to a scar right above his hip. “This is from that time some nut tried sneakin’ into Ren’s office with a letter opener.”

“I remember that.” Hifumi stiffened up as she looked at the scar. “I was horrified when I learned you’d been stabbed.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t hit any important spots, so it was fine.” Ryuji ran his finger over the scar. “But it still hurts sometimes when I bend the wrong way.” Ryuji lifted up his good leg to show a burn mark on the sole of his foot. “This is from when Yoshio started that kitchen fire and I went to pull him out while you were grabbin’ the fire extinguisher. Every once in a while it itches like a son of a bitch and I can’t focus on nothin’ else ’til I scratch it. And remember a couple years ago, when Natsumi tried jumpin’ off the roof and I dislocated my shoulder catchin’ her?”

Hifumi nodded.

“Well, sometimes my shoulder starts achin’ ‘cuz of that. Damaged rotator cuff or somethin’.” Ryuji rubbed his shoulder to make a point. “But that stuff don’t bug me much. ‘Cuz those were times I got hurt lookin’ out for someone I love. Bein’ a li’l uncomfortable once in a while’s a hell of a lot better’n losin’ someone important to me forever.”

“And I understand that. But I don’t see what that has to do with-“

Hifumi stopped. The full scope of what she was dealing with was finally starting to become clear to her. It took a moment for the realization to settle in, but once it did, she felt like an idiot for not figuring it out sooner.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh.’” Ryuji slowly rose with a belabored grunt. “I’m gonna go upstairs and take a nap. Least that’ll help pass the time ’til I can forget about this shit again.”

“Ok.”

Hifumi’s heart felt heavier with each grunt Ryuji made as he cleared every other step. She wanted so badly to say something to him, but was at a total loss for words. She’d been able to help her husband through a number of personal crises over the years, but when it came to this subject, she never knew quite what to say.

All Hifumi knew was that she needed help.

* * *

“Thank you for meeting me, Ann. I know how busy your schedule is.”

It had been a long time since Ann had sat in the attic of Leblanc, but with Cafe Noir being one of her well-known hangouts, the cluttered storage space above the unassuming coffee shop in sleepy Yongen-Jaya was one of the last places in the city she could reliably get any privacy. And from how urgent Hifumi had sounded over the phone, Ann figured it was the safest place for two famous women to have a pressing discussion without getting interrupted by fans.

“It’s no problem.” Ann put on a big smile in between sips of Sojiro’s coffee. Even after 20 years, it never got old. “I’m never too busy to help somebody dealing with a Ryuji Emergency. What stupid thing did he do this time?”

“I’m afraid you misunderstand.” Hifumi put her own coffee down on the old workbench, not caring if it got cold. “Ryuji hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s been temperamental lately, but not without good reason.”

“Are you sure about that?” Ann raised an eyebrow. “Ryuji gets mad for a lot of dumb reasons.”

“Please Ann, this is serious.”

“Ok, sorry.” Ann threw her hands up in the air. “So what’s wrong?”

“Ryuji’s upset about his leg injury.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And I believe it’s because of how he sustained it.” Hifumi’s voice quivered. She knew what she was about to address was a sensitive topic for all parties involved, but it was precisely because she wasn’t an involved party that she had to go to outside help for this problem. “I think he feels like after all these years, Kamoshida is still hurting him.”

“I see.” Ann’s voice fell flat and all the mirth left her face.

“He was showing me all of these other scars of his from times he saved other people. He wears them like badges of honor, they’re proof of times he did something good or even heroic. But with his leg-“

“It’s not a happy story.” Ann’s brow knit as she spoke with a certain clarity she rarely exhibited. “Ryuji didn’t help anybody when he got hurt by Kamoshida. He just made things worse for a lot of people. And even though all of it’s in the past and he brought Kamoshida to justice and he’s moved on and made something of his life, that dumb mistake he made is a part of his body forever.”

“Exactly.” Hifumi breathed a little easier, glad to be talking with somebody who understood the problem so clearly. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Does Shiho ever get in these moods?”

“Yeah.”

“And what do you say to her when that happens?” Hifumi looked at Ann hopefully. “How do you deal with it?”

“Well, it’s a little different each time.” Ann finished off her coffee and put the empty cup next to Hifumi’s. “There’s no magic words I can say for an easy fix. It’s not like you can just talk someone’s depression away. A lot of it’s just being there for her until her mood improves.”

“But we’ve been trying that.” Hifumi’s shoulders drooped. “Shizuka, the kids and I have all tried to engage Ryuji and cheer him up.”

“Well it’s not always about cheering them up.” Ann took a deep breath. “It’s not like I don’t have feelings about Shiho’s injuries either, you know. I still have nightmares about her jumping sometimes. It was the scariest moment of my life. And it’s hard to pretend to be happy when we get to thinking about it.”

“So there’s nothing I can do?”

“I didn’t say that.” Ann shook her head. “I’m not like, an expert or anything, but I think it’s important not to ignore it. If you try to distract Ryuji from it, it might make him feel like you don’t care, even if he knows that’s not true. When Shiho gets into these moods, I just try and remind her all the ways that life is better now. Like how Kamoshida can’t really hurt her anymore, and how she has a family that loves her, and how she’s done so well bouncing back from the whole thing.”

“And that works?”

“I mean, it doesn’t ‘work’. Like I said, it’s not a magic spell. But I think that reinforcing the positive helps a little. Like, telling Shiho all that good stuff doesn’t make her instantly better, but it stays there for a while, and eventually it gets through her skull and helps her get through her depression faster.”

“So maybe the same thing will happen with Ryuji.”

“Maybe.” The corners of Ann’s mouth turned upwards. “But Ryuji’s got a pretty thick skull, so it might take a little longer.”

Hifumi couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. After all the anxiety she’d been feeling, a bit of levity was more than welcome, even if it was at her husband’s expense.

“But for real, you just have to be patient.” Ann put her hand on Hifumi’s shoulder. “Give Ryuji a little time and let him know that he’s loved, and soon enough he’ll be back to bursting your eardrums as he screams about meat or whatever.”

“Thank you, Ann.”

* * *

Things continued as they were in the Sakamoto house for another few days. Hifumi instructed the children to just spend time with their father instead of trying too hard to engage him, and just having Yoshio reading manga in the room or Natsumi sitting down to watch TV with him did seem to improve Ryuji’s mood a little. Slowly but surely, Ryuji was getting up from the couch a bit more, spending less time sulking, actually starting conversations again, even wearing pants. He wasn’t his energetic old self yet, but it was a start.

On the final morning of Ryuji’s week off, Hifumi was surprised to find him already out of the shower and getting dressed by the time she woke up.

“Mornin’” Ryuji said.

“Good morning” Hifumi said sleepily. “How’s your leg feeling?”

“Pretty much back to normal.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Ryuji finished buckling his belt. “Should be business as usual at work tomorrow.”

Hifumi’s only response was to yawn as she climbed out of bed. She started going through her wardrobe, trying to pick out a dress for the day.

“Hey Babe...” Ryuji said.

“Hm?” Hifumi kept pushing hangers aside, trying to find the right outfit.

“You got any appointments or appearances or whatever tonight?”

“No.” Hifumi looked over her shoulder. “Why?”

“I was thinkin’ we could go get dinner tonight. Just the two of us. I need to get outta the house for a bit. Whaddya think?”

Hifumi smiled and turned back to her wardrobe, pulling out a long-sleeved red and white dress.

“I think that sounds nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Creezus I can't believe it took me over a month to write this one.
> 
> So yeah, dropped a couple little bombs about Yusuke: He's pansexual and does have a kid with Chihaya. I plan to write a story about the latter eventually, but if you follow the official AFR Universe blog (https://afruniverse.tumblr.com) you'd already know about this stuff. Got art up of Yusuke's daughter and a few other precocious tykes who haven't been introduced quite yet.
> 
> Oh, and for the timeline patrol, this story takes place January 28th-February 3rd 2040.


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